


I could not turn the moon off

by tigriswolf



Series: fic_promptly [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Backstory, F/M, Family Secrets, Father-Son Relationship, Future Fic, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied Violence, M/M, Magic, Magic Revealed, Mild Parental Neglect, Non-Chronological, POV Sheriff Stilinski, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash, Protectiveness, Secret Identity, Terminal Illnesses, Werewolf Reveal, Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2017-12-05 01:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/717507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale slunk back into town and all sorts of trouble followed him.</p><p>Alex didn’t really believe the boy sitting ramrod-straight across the table had killed the girl in the woods. He didn’t believe the boy he and his officers tore apart Beacon Hills looking for had trapped a bunch of kids in the school.</p><p>Through it all, Stiles circled around, just like Derek had once, before Stiles could even crawl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: I could not turn the moon off  
> Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Anne Sexton  
> Warnings: future!fic; implied violence; headcanon; epic backstory I don’t get into (but it is EPIC); character death due to degenerative illness/cancer (I’m honestly not sure which); grief/mourning; mild parental neglect due to grief; handwaving about California colleges and family names  
> Pairings: implied pre-Derek/Stiles; Sheriff/Mama Stilinski  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 3110  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: any, any, the things you would do to take back what's yours  
> Note: Peter Hale was never resurrected. Jackson&Erica are in the pack.

"Son," Alex said, watching Stiles arm himself with tubes of ash, silver blades, two handguns, and a staff, "be careful." 

Stiles smiled. "I'm always careful, Dad," he answered, and stepped out into the night.

.

The first Alex knew of Derek Hale was when Ellandra invited Talia Hale and her husband Jonathan over for dinner. Derek Hale was five or six, and for all that he kept moving around the dining room and bouncing off the walls, he also kept circling back to Alex's son, Allandros (called Allie by his mother - not yet Stiles, not for eight more years). 

The last Alex knew of Derek, Laura had snatched her barely-fifteen-year-old brother from CPS and run.

.

The second Stiles was out of sight, Alex called Melissa McCall and demanded, “Tell me everything you know about werewolves.” 

“Alex,” she said, sounding tired and broken, “my son is missing. I don’t have time – ”

“Melissa,” Alex interrupted, “my son is out there right now, armed for bear. Do you know where –”

“Oh,” Melissa breathed. “That’s what he meant.” 

“What’s what who meant?” Alex asked, taking his entire bullet supply to the front hall. 

“Isaac, when he got here,” Melissa said. “He, they – Scott and Derek, they’ve been taken, Boyd’s unconscious, Erica isn’t healing right, Jackson can’t control the shift… everything’s fucked up, and no one knows why. But Isaac…” She hesitated and Alex put his back-up piece on the table. 

“Please,” he said. 

Melissa took a deep breath. “Isaac said that the witch had shouted about ‘the boy’ before vanishing with Scott and Derek. He’d been shouting about ‘the boy’ during the whole fight, ‘the ash boy’ and ‘the wolf boy’ and ‘the boy without a name.’”

“Oh, fuck,” Alex whispered, staring down at his supplies. 

Stiles ran with werewolves, and his middle name had almost been Rowan until they decided to name him Alexei for Alex’s mother, Alexa, and he hadn’t used his birth name in nearly a decade.

“Yeah,” Melissa agreed.

.

Derek Hale slunk back into town and all sorts of trouble followed him.

Alex didn’t really believe the boy sitting ramrod-straight across the table had killed the girl in the woods. He didn’t believe the boy he and his officers tore apart Beacon Hills looking for had trapped a bunch of kids in the school.

Through it all, Stiles circled around, just like Derek had once, before Stiles could even crawl. 

.

The pack, a sorry-looking group of almost-adults, was taking refuge in Melissa’s house. At a glance, Alex wasn’t sure who was wolf and who wasn’t: Isaac, another boy accused of a murder he’d never committed; Erica, curled up next to Isaac, still sluggishly bleeding; Boyd (first or last name?), stretched out next to them on the floor, eyes closed; Jackson huddled with Lydia, his hands shifting back and forth, held tight between hers; Danny, Stiles’ chemistry partner, leaning into Jackson’s side. All kids who’d been in and out of Alex’s house for the better part of a year, and most of whom he’d have never believed Stiles had befriended if the evidence wasn’t plain to see.

“Where’s Allison?” Alex asked Melissa. “Shouldn’t she be here? I thought she was a part of this pack thing.”

Melissa nodded, looking just as tired as she sounded. “She is,” Melissa sighed, slumping against the wall. “She’s out hunting with her dad, trying to find a trail.” 

“Hunting?” Alex repeated. 

Nodding, Melissa looked back at the kids. “You’re not gonna like it, Alex,” she said. 

He said, “Tell me anyway.” 

.

For a few months, Alex wasn’t sure he recognized his son. Stiles had always lied, but he’d never been good at it. Then suddenly, he became a master. Alex figured it might have been Scott’s sudden girlfriend, or long-delayed grief for his mother, until the night a serial killer targeted them both at the station.

Alex knew he missed something that night, while he was unconscious. Most of his deputies were killed by a teenager (and that never sat right with him, something else was going on), and Stiles knew so much more than he was telling – 

But after that night, Stiles quit lying so much. 

(Except. Except for those few hours he was missing and came back bruised and bloody. Someone intentionally hurt his son, methodical and diligent, and Alex needs that name. All he needs is a name.)

.

Staring down at a pack of children trying so hard to be adults, Alex was horrified. And as soon as the crisis had passed and Stiles (and Scott, and Derek) was back, safe and sound, Alex was going to have a long, rational talk with Chris Argent about his sister and his father and hunting in Alex’s territory, and Chris Argent was going to sit down, shut up, and _obey_. 

(So many things Ellandra had done or said suddenly made a frightening amount of sense.)

“I’ve been terrified for months,” Melissa confessed quietly, “that Scott would do something – something tiny, insignificant, and the hunters would just break the treaty and kill him.” 

“That’s not going to happen,” Alex promised. “Not in my town.” _Not now that I know_ , he didn’t add, because he should’ve known all along. 

That wasn’t Stiles’ fault, though. Maybe not even Ellandra’s. If Ellandra hadn’t died… Alex knew things would be very different, probably going all the way back to the Hale fire. He wished there was someone left to ask, watching the children turn to each other for comfort because there was no one else.

 _No one else until now_ , he swore. Because he knew now, and this was his territory, the whole of Beacon Hills County, and no speciesist ‘monster’ hunters were going to wage war in his territory anymore, and it didn’t matter how many of them died to make the message stick.

(That was the father in him talking. The law man agreed because some things were just _right_ , despite illegality.) 

.

Stiles burst into the house, pale and eyes wide, and he met Alex’s gaze for one second before tearing upstairs into his room. Alex followed, shouting, “Stiles, get back here, do you know what time –”

And he had to stop because Stiles had pulled out a chest that shouldn’t have fit in his closet, that Alex had never seen before, and from the chest he was grabbing all sorts of things – knives and guns and plants and jars of ash and a goddamned six-foot _wizard staff_. 

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Stiles said. He wasn’t pale anymore. His eyes weren’t wide. He was calm and sure and there was something cold in his eyes as he met Alex’s gaze again. “There’s – fuckin’ werewolves. Call Scott’s mom,” Alex’s son, who’d grown into a man when Alex wasn’t looking, said. “She’ll tell you what’s going on. I don’t have the time.” 

Just before going downstairs, Stiles said again, “I’m sorry.” 

Alex followed him and grabbed his arm at the door. “Be careful, son,” he said, because whatever was going on, he couldn’t stop Stiles without taking him into custody and there would be no coming back from that.

“I’m always careful, Dad,” Stiles said, almost flippantly, with a dangerous smile.

.

It was almost noon before Alex’s phone began blaring the song Stiles had programmed into it to mean he was calling ( _Hollaback Girl_ , this week. Last week it was _Rolling in the Deep_ ). 

“Stiles!” he said. “Stiles, are you okay?”

“Dad,” Stiles murmured, “I need you to come get us. We’re at…I don’t even know. Have Danny track my phone, ‘kay?” His voice slurred near the end. 

“Stiles!” Alex shouted. 

“Quiet, Dad,” he muttered. “Gotta sleep now.” 

The pack, except for Boyd, had all stood and crowded around Alex the moment he said his son’s name. So when Alex looked at Danny, panicked and wanting to _kill something_ , Danny said, “Already tracking him, sir,” poking at some device that looked like a calculator. 

Alex squeezed his phone and breathed.

.

“Allandros Alexei Stilinski?” Alex’s dad laughed when Alex’s son was a day old. “That’s a wizard’s name, kiddo.” 

Ellandra smiled down at her baby and then up at them both. “Maybe it will be,” she said. 

(Dad was dead six years later; Mama had been dead since before Alex graduated college. Ellandra was dead before their son’s ninth birthday. Alex never met his wife’s family, but they named their boy for her father.)

.

Alex made Boyd and Erica stay at the house with Melissa and Lydia to watch over them, while Isaac, Jackson, Danny, and Alex followed the signal to Stiles. Alex wanted to leave Jackson and Danny behind, too, but if anything happened to the signal they’d need Danny, and even while he didn’t have control, Jackson was stronger than anyone except Boyd, who still hadn’t woken up. 

(Isaac had mumbled something about needing the alpha, when Alex asked. He’d looked so young. They all looked young, terrified and wounded in a way that had nothing to do with blood and concussions.)

Danny called the Argents on the way, gave them the coordinates. It was in the middle of nowhere, way out on the edge of the Preserve, and Alex really was tired of those woods. Chris and Allison met them at the entrance. 

“You’ll need these, Sheriff,” Chris Argent told him, handing over a box of shells. “Kill shots.” 

“You and I are going to have a talk when this is over,” Alex told him. 

Chris nodded. “I’m sure we will.” 

Alex looked long and hard at Danny, but Danny just grabbed one of the guns with an expressionless face, so Alex sighed. 

Isaac led the way with Chris right behind him, and Alex shook his head. “Fucking werewolves,” he muttered. 

He and Stiles were going to have a long talk, too.

.

Ellandra introduced herself as Ellie, the first time they met. She was a junior at Stanford and he had already graduated from CSUSM with a BA in Criminology. He was about to head back to Beacon Hills, see about joining the force, but he hung around Palo Alto for the next couple years. Ellie took a semester off for the wedding before going to grad school in a correspondence course, and then she got pregnant a year in. 

She got her master’s with their son shrieking and bouncing off the walls, and it was like no time passed at all until she was sick, and dying, and leaving Alex alone with a son who spent a month in silence before deciding he’d make up for that silence by never being quiet again.

In those last few weeks, Alex waited for her to ask for her parents, for the sister she had mentioned once. She had a large family, she said, somewhere in the wilds of Europe. She’d talked about it, the one time she’d ever been drunk, in those laughing, bright, early days. He’d been dazzled by her eyes and hadn’t really heard where her family came from. She didn’t become an American citizen until after she graduated from Stanford.

He waited for her to ask for her family, but she never did. And then she was gone.

.

Stiles was collapsed in the middle of a clearing. Scott was tied up and unconscious to the side, but Derek Hale was spread out over Stiles’ upper body, bleeding all over him. 

There were also scorch marks in the ground, but Isaac whispered, “I can’t hear anyone else.”

The scorch marks looked a lot like body outlines, but Alex didn’t even pause. While Chris, Danny, and Jackson kept watch of the perimeter, Alex and Isaac hurried towards Stiles and Derek, and Allison went for Scott. 

“They’re all breathing,” Isaac said quietly. “Strong heartbeats.” 

Isaac carefully pulled Derek off Stiles and Alex quickly checked his son over, but he wasn’t hurt, at least nowhere obvious. Derek started sluggishly healing as soon as Isaac touched him and he woke up with a not-so-impressive snarl. 

Alex ignored him, but they’d be having a talk, as well. Alex would be having quite a few talks in the near future.

.

Ellandra called herself Ellie Lupe at Stanford, though that same one time she was ever drunk in Alex’s presence, she whispered in his ear, laughing and slurring, that her family’s name was Vukašin, and they were one of the oldest bloodlines in the world. 

Later, he asked about her parents, and she looked at him like he was crazy when he called her dad ‘Mr. Vukašin,’ because it was her mother’s family. 

“Dad’s name is Allandros Kosta,” she said. “Mom is Elia Vukašin.” She shrugged. “I came here for a new life, and they have Cassandra, anyway.” 

She didn’t mention any of them again until they were brainstorming for names for the whirlwind growing inside her. 

Alex was a little flabbergasted that her parents had named her and her sister Ellandra and Cassandra when the dad was Allandros, but figured he didn’t have much room to talk, what with him being Alexander while his mom was Alexa. (Dad was just Jonathan, though. And Alex’s little brother was Clarence, so he knows he got off lucky.)

“Rowan Alexa for a girl,” Ellandra finally said, “And Allandros Rowan for a boy. Alright?” 

“Sure,” Alex agreed, just glad to have it decided. 

But while she held their son, barely an hour old, after the quickest and easiest birth Alex could imagine, Ellandra looked down at him and said, “Allandros Alexei Stilinski, welcome to the world.” 

.

“Isaac,” Derek mumbled as he shoved the kid’s hands away. “Check Stiles. He did something – it was stupid, and fire, and check him, make sure –”

“Stiles is fine, I think,” Alex said, and Derek blinked up at him. Alex cupped the back of Stiles’ head, ignoring the way Derek’s eyes drank his son in, the way Derek tried to scoot closer, but Isaac held him still. 

Derek let out a half-hearted growl but couldn’t pull away from Isaac’s grip. 

Scott woke up with a yell; Stiles didn’t react at all. 

“We need to get to the hospital,” Alex said. “Now.”

.

Until Ellandra died, their son was called Allie. It didn’t matter how badly the kids at school mocked him (and some of them did, fiercely, for having ‘a girly name’) he wanted to be called Allie. Only Ellandra could pronounce the full thing correctly, but Alex tried. 

But when Ellandra died and no one pronounced his name right, little Allie became Stiles. 

Sometimes, when Stiles was particularly difficult, Alex missed Allie, that bright, boisterous little boy who mostly died with his mother. Stiles could be so dark, so _angry_ , though he usually masked it with a big, wide smile. Then high-school, and all the lying, all the acting out – the pack, Alex realized when Stiles just couldn’t hide it anymore. The pack and hunters and so many near-deaths. 

Allie died with Ellandra, but Stiles is still the most important thing in the world. 

.

Isaac, Jackson, and the Argents dragged Derek and Scott to the McCall house while Alex got his kid to the hospital. Within an hour, the pack showed up, Boyd on his feet and awake, Erica totally healed, and Jackson in full control. Scott was also fine, apparently, and Allison stayed glued to his side

“They needed the alpha,” Melissa said as the pack takes over the waiting room, none of them moving out of Derek’s reach. “He stepped in the room and they just – got better.” 

Alex was relieved, really he was, but Stiles was somewhere in the hospital and Alex couldn’t be with him, and he had no idea what was wrong with his son – 

“His heartbeat is steady,” Derek said quietly, sitting next to Alex. “He’s in a room and the doctor is about to request his family be brought back.” 

Closing his eyes, Alex breathed out a giant sigh of relief. 

.

After Ellandra died, Alex tried tracking down her family. No matter how he spelled any of the names she’d mumbled, he couldn’t find them. It was like she’d stepped into California fully formed, with no past at all. Just a too-short future, and a son with her eyes and that undefeatable spark. 

Alex missed her every day, every hour, every moment. He knew he should have discussed her more with Stiles, but instead he just shut down. When Stiles started talking again, Alex could never figure out how to start up a conversation about anything important. And the more time passed… 

He really wished he could believe that Stiles would come to him with any trouble. But as the year and a half between Scott getting bit and Alex learning the truth showed – well, he wasn’t surprised. He lost the chance when Stiles was eight and the house remained silent. 

.

“Allandros Alexei Stilinski,” Alex said, leaning down to wrap his arms around his son. “If you ever keep something that huge from me again…” 

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Stiles said into his neck. “I’ve wanted… it’s been so hard, and I’m so tired.” He slumped against Alex, breathing in deeply. “I’m a – a mage, I think. It’s what Deaton called me once, anyway.” 

Alex brought up a hand to cradle the back of Stiles’ head, still holding him tightly. His boy almost died tonight. The doctor had no explanation, but Stiles’ whole body had been worn out, most of his blood just evaporated from his veins. 

Medically, there was no explanation. But magically? Magically, Stiles had sacrificed himself to save a pack of werewolves, and it cost enough blood to light a dozen fires. Stiles killed three hunters, four witches, and five shifters (multiple kinds) tonight. 

“What’s the difference between a witch and a mage?” Alex asked, finally pulling back and helping Stiles settle back down into the bed. 

Stiles sort of shrugged with his eyebrows and said, “C’mon in, puppies. I know you’re itching to.” 

Alex shook his head in amusement as the pack all slunk into the room, Melissa behind them. Each of the kids, human and werewolf, quickly touched Stiles somewhere before stepping back. Stiles seemed to relax more with each touch until finally only Derek was left. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly, leaning down to rest his forehead on Stiles’. 

“I’m the boy who runs with wolves,” Stiles replied quietly. “There was never anything else I could do.” He paused before adding, “Alpha.” 

.

(In a box at the back of the attic there is a picture that Alex has never seen. In it, two identical young women are laughing in each other’s arms, and there are wolves spread out around them. Written on the back in Serbian is _Heir Cass, Mage El, & Vukašin pack, 1985_.)


	2. backstory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't seen any of season 3 yet, and I started this 'verse before we knew anything about the alpha pack or Stiles' mom. *shrugs* It's never gonna be finished, but here's the backstory for it.

When they are very young, still just barely walking, the Grand-Alpha, Mama’s papa’s mama tells them a story about the twin wolves born on a night with no moon. It is a legend told to every member of the pack, from high up in the mountains to out in the desert. From those twins came all shifters; from the goddess they loved came all mages. _We are Vukašin_ , Grand-Alpha says quietly, at the end of the story, staring down at the future alpha and the most promising mage in four generations. _We are the children of the moon and we have responsibilities to all of our kin, wherever they reside._

Cassandra and Ellandra are yet too young to truly understand, but they never forget. 

. 

Mama is Alpha of the largest pack in the world, the most powerful, the oldest. The pack is firmly entrenched in what the magis call the Old World, with representation in every country. Mama and a group of the most trusted wolves keep the peace like royalty of old – hundreds of mini-packs defer to Vukašin, no matter what the alpha feels about Alpha. 

Mama is Alpha, and her father Badri before her, and Grand-Alpha Selenia before him, a bloodline going back into before memory. It has not always been peaceful, has been held with blood and magic, but they are strong now. Vukašin has soaked into the ground in the Old World and nothing can burn them out, not while Cassandra’s wolf is twined with Ellandra’s magic. 

But Ellandra chooses a university in the New World, the far-off land of California, and she leaves. 

.

There is no arguing when El decides. She tells Cass the moment she knows for sure what she wants, then tells Papa. Papa looks at her for a moment before asking, “You’re certain?” 

“Yes, Papa,” she says, no doubt anywhere within her. “I’m not sure what, not yet, but there is something – something _waiting_ for me, and I have to find it. To find it…” She shrugs, a surge of sadness at the thought of leaving the pack, leaving the land that sings and the moon that howls, leaving her family and her sister, her papa, her Alpha. But… “To find it,” she says again, “I have to go.” 

Papa kisses her forehead. “Convince your mother, little moon,” he says. “You have my blessing.”

.

El had always been sure she’d return one day, go home to the pack and her family. But she meets Alex Stilinski in the fall of her junior year, and that night, she whispers to Cass in her dreams, and they laugh together like girls, and El knows, down to her bones, that she has found her mate.

Her mate, a man without an ounce of magic in him at all, not in anyone who has ever shared the blood that flows in his veins. (Not until their son.)

.

Wolves in the New World are scattered. There’s a pack in the Amazon that maintains iron control of the South American packs, but it’s far more bloody and shifting than Vukašin, and there is nothing anywhere near its equal in North America. 

Back home, hunters understand that they can only go after out-of-control omegas. If they touch a wolf claimed by a pack, they are wide open to retribution. When they realized how serious Alpha was, when Selenia’s mother Raiyana made it clear and skirted all out war, most hunters migrated to the New World, where there was no higher authority watching over wolves. 

Selenia had told Cass and El about the grandparents she never knew, Alpha Karl and his mate Nyima, murdered by hunters for no reason other than that they were wolves. _They had gone into town,_ the grand-Alpha explained, so serious, so still. _The rest of the pack were still recovering from the moon madness, and they felt his roar, when Nyima fell to the poisoned blade. Pray, little wolves, that you never feel it. My mother saw to it that hunters never again walked so proud in our lands. It will be up to you, Cassandra, to keep what my mother won for us._

Cass nodded, just as serious, and El clutched her sister’s hand close. 

But here, in the States… the first thing El does, after settling into her dorm, is seek out the wolves in Palo Alto. It is a tiny pack, only three wolves, Jim, Riley, and Sasha the alpha. They don’t recognize her for what she is, and she keeps the scent of Vukašin held in close. Only when she finds wolves she knows she can trust will she let who she really is into the open. 

Sasha’s pack is recovering, the stench of grief, fear, and rage still billowing around them – and in one spot in town, wolfsbane reeks. 

There are no hunters in Palo Alto, but it is clear they just left. El wonders, and part of her wants to get involved, to find out the truth, possibly to avenge whoever was stolen from Sasha. She is Vukašin; she was raised to protect. 

But this is not her land. These are not her wolves. 

So El keeps her head down, focuses on her studies, runs through forests with her twin in her dreams. Papa teaches her in the afternoon, after her classes, an hour a day. She is not fully a mage, yet, still his most promising student – when she returns home, when she bleeds with Cassandra to become Alpha and Mage of Vukašin, then she will be a mage. 

.

Cass and El used to toss around names for the children they’d have one day. Cass claimed their mother’s name for one of her future daughters; El took their father’s, for the son she saw in her dreams. When she said that her firstborn would be Rowan, Cass shook her head. _Why name your child after a weapon used on wolves?_ Cass asked, sprawled beneath their favorite tree in the heart of their territory. 

El had laughed, loud and bright, and their bodyguards (forced on them by their mother until El’s magic matured, and probably even after) glanced over with indulging smiles. Cass and El weren’t the only children of the pack, but they were the favored – the heirs. If anything happened to either of them, El knew that Mama would go to war. Papa would scorch the earth. Until her magic matured, she fully endorsed bodyguards because she didn’t want to be responsible for anybody dying. 

_Rowan isn’t just a weapon against wolves,_ she told her sister. _It can be used against **anything**. But hunters and witches, they only know the easy way to use it._ She shrugged. _It’s just a spark, Cass. And if someone particularly gifted –_

 _Like you?_ Cass interjected, raising an eyebrow. 

_Like me_ , El agreed. _When I use mountain ash, I’m lighting a fire only I can control._

Cass tackled her and they tabled the future children conversation for the day.

.

Stefan is Cassandra’s second, her right hand. He is what El would’ve been, had El been gifted with a wolf instead of magic. Randelyn is Cassandra’s mage, holding the place where El should’ve been. Rande is nowhere near El’s level, but she is still far more powerful than most magis. Both of them are alphas like Cassandra and Mama; every wolf in the home pack is, the pack that lives in the heart of Vukašin territory. Every Vukašin wolf born for a thousand years has been an alpha, and that’s part of the reason their pack is so feared. 

Cassandra has never been Ellandra’s alpha, not like Mama is or Selenia was. Cassandra is Ellandra’s other half, part of the wellspring of magic that flows through El’s veins. They are equals in every way; Grand-Alpha told them that after Mama, Papa, and her, Vukašin had no one better. 

But Ellandra is gone. In California. And Cassandra never said, _Sister, I can’t do this without you_ because it isn’t true. Of course she can do it without Ellandra – she just doesn’t want to. 

But El’s magick called her to California, to the man she found there. To the child Cass can feel growing in her sister, from all the way across the world.


	3. original idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the original idea I'd jotted down for this 'verse.

There is a pack that spreads across the globe, with ties to every major world power, and forty-one years ago, the alpha gave birth to twin daughters. Cassandra Jocelene, the first born, was gifted with the wolf; Ellandra Selene, seven minutes younger, was gifted with the magic. 

They both went to university, but Cassandra stayed close to home. Ellandra chose Stanford, all the way in California. She never returned to the pack because she met Alexander Stilinski in her junior year. They got married when she was twenty-two, after she graduated, and then in her second semester at grad school, she became pregnant.

Allandros Alexei Stilinski was born beneath a dark star, without a wolf. He did, however, inherit the magic. He was named for his mother’s father, a man he never met, the greatest mage of the Old World, and his father’s mother, a poor woman who worked herself to death to give her children a better life.

Beacon Hills was Ellandra’s territory and the Hale pack recognized that. But she began getting sick when Allie was seven and she died when he was eight, before ever getting the chance to teach him to control the power swirling in him. 

Across the world, Cassandra felt her sister’s death. And if she hadn’t been in the middle of trying to avert a war, she would have dropped everything and run to California. They’d both thought they’d have years to reconnect and Cassandra very nearly tore out the throat of a wolf that disrespected the pack she was about to take over from her mother, Elia. Her father, Allandros, had to call down a storm to resolve the situation. 

The Hale pack died the year after Ellandra, burnt alive in their own house. Of the three survivors, two fled the territory and another was lost inside his own mind. Alex did his best with their son, who renamed himself Stiles because no one but his mother ever said his name correctly. 

Elia and Allandros stayed in the Old World, but Cassandra took her most loyal wolves and traveled to Beacon Hills to finally meet her sister’s son. 

The Alpha Pack? Is actually Stiles’ aunt and her friends.


End file.
